Chances

by Pamela Nowak

  Sarah stood firm, unwilling to be drawn into a catfight.

  Mrs. Anderson glanced from one of them to the other, then nervously began to speak.

  “Lavinia—”

  “I seen her,” a voice called out from the back of the room. “I seen her talkin’ to men all over the city. Lord knows what they’re arranging.”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Elizabeth said. “She delivers telegraphs. I know Sarah, and I know she’s earned her position honorably. This is nothing but vicious gossip made up by a man who resents the fact that Sarah is more skillful than he is.”

  “Drivel, Elizabeth. Where there’s smoke, there’s fire. It’s time to cut her loose.” Lavinia threw out an arm, encouraging others to comment.

  “She’ll drag us all down,” a haughty voice chimed in.

  “It’s taken us years to gain credence. We surely don’t need the men raising morality as an issue,” another woman said.

  “Morality? And men? Don’t make me laugh.” Elizabeth’s gaze hardened and the crowd tittered, half hysterical. “We all know what men will do, and we know even better what they’ll say when they’re threatened. Sarah doesn’t deserve any of this.”

  Lavinia stepped forward. “Mrs. Bean hit the nail on the head, ladies. Think about it. Those same men will be calling the whole association immoral. We’ll lose the referendum.”

  Those around her began nodding as the comment sank in. Sarah’s gaze drifted over them as control shifted away from her. Elizabeth’s face registered shock and Sarah realized Lavinia had played a trump card, one she didn’t think she could beat.

  Lavinia’s wicked smile mocked Sarah’s silence. “Shall I tell you the rest? Shall I tell you what happened last week?”

  Sarah’s thoughts flew to Daniel. One word about what happened in the butler’s pantry and Daniel’s carefully crafted reputation would be ruined, his image tarnished in his daughters’ eyes. She sent a beseeching look toward Elizabeth as Lavinia watched with hawk-like interest.

  “Shut up, Lavinia. You are affecting innocent people,” Elizabeth hissed, her genteel graciousness abandoned.

  Lavinia smiled with smug satisfaction. “I will not. These ladies need to know. The public needs to know that the suffrage movement does not stand for this kind of behavior. That we condemn it. If your husband won’t publish the story, I’ll go to the Tribune.” She paused, letting the full impact of her threat hit home, then raised her voice until it filled the room. “I am not about to let Sarah Donovan destroy everything we’ve worked for, ladies, are you? Are you willing to let all our efforts die? Die, when we are so close to gaining the vote?”

  Sarah felt the sting of accusing eyes. Women who had worked for years to gain the vote stared at her, considering her a threat to all they’d accomplished. Hostility filled the room.

  “Last week,” Lavinia continued, “she took her loose morals out in public, ladies, in public, do you hear? In all my born days, I’ve never seen the like. This, this adventuress—”

  “Stop it.” Sarah heard the command in her voice and wished she could shrink away from it. Her heart stung.

  A few more ill-placed words from Lavinia and the local suffrage movement would shatter, Sarah’s career would be gone for good, and Daniel’s good character would be destroyed.

  God help her, none of those outcomes were acceptable.

  She closed her eyes, praying Lavinia would keep quiet. Rustling fabric filled the room with sound and Sarah forced her eyes open. Lavinia neared, a venomous aura surrounding her. She leaned forward and hissed into Sarah’s ear. “You want my silence? Step down from the association and walk out that door. This is my movement and you’re not needed here. Resign and I won’t say another word. Fight me and I’ll see to it that undertaker and his family never know respect again, their own or anyone else’s.”

  Chapter Eight

  Sarah stared at Lavinia, measuring the threat in her steel-gray eyes. The mixture of fear and determination lurking there gave credence to her words. A chill crept through Sarah.

  Lavinia Morgan was not just spouting words. Not at all. She was as vicious as Elizabeth had warned, perhaps even deadly.

  “Shall I ruin him, dear?” Lavinia whispered, the threat shrouded in overtly genteel tones.

  Sarah bit back the retort that threatened to erupt and forced herself to think before she spoke.

  Lavinia’s smile thinned and she leaned closer. The stale odor of onion lingered around her and Sarah fought the urge to step away. She could not, would not, give Lavinia the satisfaction.

  “And what of those dear little girls who so mindlessly worship you? How will people treat them once word is out that their father is a lecher? Perhaps Denver needs to know he’s not the fit parent everyone thought he was. I can make this as big as I need to.”

  Sarah shivered and pulled away. Curious stares filled the room, each one attempting to decipher the situation. Among them were women who had trusted Daniel to bury their loved ones, perhaps cried on his shoulders as they pondered coffin styles. Surely they wouldn’t believe he was that kind of man.

  She caught Elizabeth’s gaze, one of just a handful that held reassurance instead of blatant curiosity or fear. In the whole room, only a few even knew Sarah. To the others, she was no longer a potential leader. She was a threat to the cause, her credibility tattered to the point of hampering the movement.

  A few well-chosen words from Lavinia and the gossip could spread far beyond what was or was not happening at the depot. In the ladies' eyes, she and Daniel would be whatever the rumors made them. She hadn’t any doubt that Lavinia would build the entire situation into something it wasn’t. Like a cornered cat, Lavinia would lash out with all her claws, ripping and tearing without discretion.

  Even if it meant shredding the lives of two little girls.

  Sarah sighed. Somehow, she had to find a way to prevent what was happening, appease Lavinia before she mentioned Daniel’s name aloud to the others. The only loss would be to her own reputation and her active involvement in the movement. Deep down, she knew she’d lost both already.

  Swallowing the pride that screamed for defense, Sarah nodded then lifted her head and faced the room. “Are any of you listening to yourselves?” Her measured words bore into the void until several women dropped their stares. “You’re letting malicious gossip run rampant over our honor and our cause, yours as well as mine. I don’t want to sacrifice Colorado’s chance for women’s suffrage because of in-fighting. Good heavens, ladies, what a field day the men would have with that.”

  A few of the women laughed nervously as the truth of her words hit home. Sarah waited, watching them begin to nod in agreement, gauging the crowd. Low murmurs of agreement surfaced and the mood shifted.

  Sarah smiled, an offering of quiet sincerity, and chose her words with care. “I’d rather give up my active involvement in the movement than have that happen.” She scanned the group, pinning her gaze on Lavinia’s most vocal supporters. “But even without me here, if you continue to repeat Lavinia’s empty accusations, you’ll destroy the cause on your own.”

  “Hear, hear,” Mrs. Anderson chimed in.

  “But what about everything she’s done?”

  “Oh, hush up,” Elizabeth chastised. “Good Gracious, ladies, you’ve torched her honor enough. Unless you want to sacrifice the vote, you’ll quit wagging your tongues and give the woman a little respect. Besides, why push one of our best campaigners out the door?”

  Sarah held her hands up in a gesture of nullification and shook her head. Elizabeth had earned their respect with years of community involvement and charitable giving. It wasn’t Sarah’s due, not yet, and demanding it would only make things worse. “Thank you, Elizabeth, but I’ve made my decision. Let’s not argue any further. I feel I’ve caused dissent, and no movement needs that within its ranks. My further involvement will only make things difficult.”

  Lavinia nodded, her shock hidden behind a cheery smile of support. “I think Miss D
onovan is being quite noble. Perhaps I misjudged her.” She patted Sarah’s arm and leaned forward toward the crowd. “I do have a tendency to let gossip get the best of me.” She beamed as she once again turned to Sarah. “Are you quire sure, dear, that we can’t all work together?”

  Sarah pasted a contrite smile on her own face and shook her head, wondering if Lavinia's pacification was all going just a bit too easily. “I think it would be better if I weren’t actively involved.”

  “Quite right. We do need to preserve the cause, and there is always the lingering chance that others in the community would look poorly on us.” Lavinia glanced at Elizabeth. “Perhaps there are other ways Miss Donovan can contribute, outside of the organized movement. We do want to be fair, after all. We’ll put our heads together and see what we can find for her.”

  Elizabeth crossed her arms and stared back. “How decent of you.”

  Sarah groaned and shook her head at her friend.

  Lavinia waved a hand through the air and squeezed Sarah’s arm again. “Don’t be catty, Elizabeth. I believe Miss Donovan is more than happy with the way things have turned out, aren’t you dear?”

  Sarah choked back a derisive snigger. Lavinia Morgan had to be the shallowest woman in the room. But she was also the most dangerous and Sarah knew better than to assume the threat was gone. A sudden idea formed in her head and she offered a silent prayer that her intuition was right.

  Leaning forward, she lowered her voice for Lavinia’s ears only. “It’s a compromise, Lavinia. If it works, we’ll both be happy and your leadership of the movement will succeed just fine. But just so we both know, this works only if we both do our share to squelch the gossip. If it continues, you will lose this movement and your role in it. What’s done is done, and we both know the rumors about the telegrams aren’t going to simply disappear. But I’d hate to hear them grow to involve anyone but me. I’m sure you won’t start any new gossip—about Daniel or about me. As long as things are quiet, I’ll make sure any little tidbits about you and Frank Bates are nipped in the bud. Are we understood?”

  Shock skittered through Lavinia’s gray eyes, confirming Sarah’s hunch that Frank and Lavinia were more involved than Lavinia would have anyone know. Lavinia offered a reluctant nod of agreement. “It appears we understand each other quite well.”

  * * * * *

  The following afternoon, Daniel stood, kicking at the dirt on the floor of the Kansas-Pacific depot while Jim Wilson finished with his line of customers. He didn’t much like eating crow, but he figured he owed it to Sarah. Much as he hated admitting it, he’d been wrong to hold her responsible for that body fiasco in the first place. Filing the complaint with the railroad had been reactionary and totally uncalled for.

  He shifted his stance and glanced about the station. It sure was a busy place. A frazzled woman sagged on the leather bench, two cranky toddlers at her knee. Their vocal complaints filled the room. In front of the ticket window, two old-timers argued over which day they wanted to depart. A young boy pushed a floor broom across the wooden planks, stirring up dust devils. Luggage handlers carried a trunk away and the distant sound of a train whistle caught the attention of waiting passengers.

  Good God, what it must be like to work among such noise, trying to concentrate on deciphering the dots and dashes of a telegram. It was all such a stark contrast to his quiet coffin shop where the grate of sandpaper on cedar was the only intrusion on one’s private thoughts.

  Still, he could picture Sarah here, content with all the fuss and bother. Because of his actions, she’d been removed from it and now pulled her duty during the quiet night shift. The silence must be eerie for her.

  The last customer turned away from the ticket counter and shuffled toward the open doorway that led to the platform. Jim Wilson followed, pushing up his glasses and reminding the boisterous little ones not to step too close to the waiting train.

  Daniel watched them board, fingering the carefully scripted letter in his pocket until Jim reentered.

  “Sorry about the delay, Mr. Petterman. You wanted to talk to me?” Jim wiped his hand on his pant leg and extended it.

  Daniel shook it, then presented the letter. “I think I made a grave error in issuing that complaint against Sarah Donovan. I acted in haste, without seeking to discover the facts of the situation. I’d like to retract the complaint.”

  Jim raised his bushy eyebrows. “You would?”

  “Yes. After some observation, I’ve noted that Miss Donovan has a much higher level of professionalism than I originally thought.”

  The stationmaster nodded. “Like I told you when you issued the complaint, that li’l gal is the best telegrapher I’ve ever had here. Didn’t seem you wanted to hear it much then. Anything in particular change your mind?”

  “Yeah. I got stuck on a committee with her and she put me in my place.” He rued the stupid grin inching its way across his face. Wilson acted like he was enjoying his discomfort. But he seemed a good sort and Sarah spoke well of him.

  “She does tend to do that. You want this letter forwarded on up the line, then?”

  Daniel nodded. “It needs to go wherever the original complaint went.”

  “Will do, Petterman.” Jim stuffed the letter into his vest pocket and eyed Daniel.

  “Any chance this will get her transferred back to days?”

  Jim paused as if weighing his words. “It’ll help. No guarantees, though. It’s complicated, and I reckon she’d rather stay on nights than be bossed by Bates. But what with him not showing for his shift, it might just be enough to do the trick at that.”

  “Thanks, Wilson.”

  Jim glanced around the station then turned back to Daniel. “She tell you she stepped down from that suffrage association of hers? Told me she just lost interest. Seem right to you?”

  A sense of foreboding crept through him. It just didn’t fit with the Sarah he’d seen. “Lost interest? Hardly. That woman doesn’t just lose interest in anything, let alone women’s suffrage.”

  “Heard from Bates that she got in a tussle with that Morgan woman.”

  “Lavinia.” The name was sour on Daniel’s lips. “That old bat ought to have her wings clipped.”

  Jim snorted in agreement, then pushed at his spectacles. “Whatever it was that got them two tangled, it must have been something to make Sarah step down from fightin’ for the vote.”

  “And whatever it was, Jim Wilson, is none of your business.” Sarah entered the open doorway of the depot and glared at them, hands on her hips. “Don’t you two have better things to do than stand around gossiping?”

  Daniel’s mouth went dry. Sarah was once again clad in plain brown, her golden hair drawn into a severe bun. Funny, all he’d seen before was the brown skirt. Now, all he saw were the curves she was trying so hard to disguise, curves he had no right even thinking about.

  “Afternoon,” Jim nodded.

  “Sarah,” Daniel said, not trusting himself further.

  “Well?” she demanded.

  Daniel stared back at her and shook his head. “Well what?”

  “If you two will just excuse me, I sure got a pile of ticket stubs to file away.” Jim hustled into his office.

  Sarah crossed the room toward him, heels clicking, and Daniel groaned. The hellcat was back.

  “What in the world are you doing here?” she snapped.

  “It’s a train station, Sarah. Last I heard, anyone was welcome in here.” His voice was sharper than he’d intended and he wanted to kick himself. He needed to make things right with her, not antagonize her again. Damn, but she needled him.

  “Jim doesn’t like folks to loiter. Was there something you needed?” She stopped in front of him, violet eyes flashing like it was his fault she’d stopped by.

  “I’ve already taken care of my business with Mr. Wilson.”

  “Then I guess you can be on your way.” She turned away and he caught her arm.

  “It’s a little early for your shift, isn�
��t it?”

  “And why is that your business?”

  Daniel sighed and forced his mouth into a smile that didn’t have the slightest thing to do with the way he was feeling. “It’s not. But then, it wasn’t really any of your business what I was doing here.” He silenced her retort with a finger to his lips. “I just thought maybe you might have time for a walk.”

  “With you?”

  Good God, she was sassy. He should just turn around and walk away and let her stew. He should, but he owed her, especially if that Morgan woman was stirring things up. “No, with the next customer that walks in. Of course, with me.”

  Sarah wiped her hands on her skirt, glanced at Jim’s ticket counter, and took a deep breath. “Look, Daniel, I have enough problems as it is—”

  “So do I, but I figure we have at least one or two in common.” He softened his tone and caught her gaze. “Could we at least go somewhere quiet to talk about what happened the other night?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Well, I do. Shall I talk about it here where Bates is liable to walk in and cause us both an upset stomach, or will you come with me?”

  Sarah glared at him, her eyes once again full of fire. “I take my walks along the City Ditch,” she said, then turned and stalked away.

  One corner of Daniel’s mouth lifted. Most women he knew took their strolls along the respectable paths in front of the city’s larger homes. But Sarah wasn’t like most women he knew. He shrugged and followed her out the door and into the fading light of late afternoon. “Sounds fine to me. It’ll give me a place to throw you if you keep up with that mouth of yours.”

  She turned and stared at him, incredulous. “You didn’t seem to mind my mouth too much when you cornered me in the butler’s pantry.”

  A smart retort formed on Daniel’s lips and he swallowed it. “Truth be told, Sarah, neither of us minded, and that’s exactly why we need to talk.” He paused, pondering her sour face, then decided to drop the subject until her mood softened. “Are you sure you want to walk all the way to the ditch? It must be three miles. Why don’t we just take my buggy?”